Warmth
by pukingtoreador
Summary: Tumnus meets a Saytr in the woods. Takes place before The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. In progess. Thrid Chapter uploaded.
1. Chapter 1

It was snowing again in the Lantern Waste. Watching the crystals of ice drift down, Tumnus wondered if the same snow was falling on all of Narnia. He folded his umbrella and shook it off. Wet slush and water sprayed across the white forest floor, leaving damp droplets that sank into the snow.

The Faun unfolded his umbrella, twirling in his hand, and continued to head home. The fresh volley of the snow would cover his hoofprints. The Queen's secret police, which enjoyed "surprise inspections", on any creature they could find, had nothing to tract. It looked like he was going to havea quiet evening.

Silence blanketed the wood as heavily as the constant snowfall. He tried to remember when the forest was full of sounds, even when in the grip of winter. But those were in the days when winter had an end. The mere thought made Tumnus feel the cold he had grown so accustomed to. Shivering, he tightened his scarf and hurried through the forest.

He ducked under branches and jumped over upraised roots, quick and quiet as a shadow. The thought of a fire cackling in the den, hot tea, and his old copy of _Is Man A Myth?_ waiting to be reread speed him forward. The cave opening to his home was in sight when a dark figure appeared in front of him. An instant later he was on the ground, head ringing with pain.

"Oh dear…" Tumnus muttered, struggling to sit up, colors bouncing across his vision. When the pain of impact subsided, he saw a goat-legged man was standing over him, offering him his hand. It was rough and calloused when he accepted it.

"I'm terribly sorry", Tumnus said, brushing the snow off his legs and looking around for his umbrella. "I really should watch where I'm going".

After his umbrella remained unfound for half a minute, he looked up and realized the person he had crashed into was holding it in front of him. The Faun blushed with embarrassment and took it from him. The goat-legged man simply smirked.

His legs were like Tumnus's, but the black hair that covered it was thicker and shaggier. His horns were far longer and curled around behind his head, like those of a ram. Tumnus quickly realized that he was not standing in front of a Faun. This was a Satyr, a wilder and rougher cousin of his race.

"I think I could forgive you, little faun", the Satyr murmured, still smirking. "I'm just perishing of thrist, you see…"

The Satyr let the words hang in the air. He tilted his head slightly and looked at Tumnus with dark brown eyes. The Faun blinked for a moment before realizing he was expected to say something.

"Of course I'd be happy to invite you over for some refreshment", he gave the stranger a nervous smile. "My name is Tumnus. How do you do?"

Tumnus's father had always told him Satyrs were quick to anger, and the best way to deal with them was to be polite.

"Tumnus, huh? Well, aside from thirsty, hungry, lonesome and cold", the Satyr wrapped his arms around himself, and Tumnus noticed they were nearly as hairy as his legs," I'm simply wonderful".

"Perhaps it would be best if we made to my home. It's just down that way", Tumnus pointed to his cave a few yards away. "But I'm afraid I haven't caught your name"

"That's because I didn't let you catch it". The Satyr grinned. His teeth were very white and only a little crooked. "I go by Belspur. Bel to friends".

"It is certainly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Belspur"

"You call me Bel. Anyone who offers me a drink is my friend"


	2. Chapter 2

Tumnus and Belspur quickly discovered that they had very different ideas of what the word "drink" meant.

Belspur snorted loudly and stamped his hoof at the tea Tumnus poured him.

"What is this?" the Satyr asked in an unpleasant tone, pointing to the little curls of steams rising out of the cup.

"Well", Tumnus tightened his grip on his teakettle and tittered, "I thought something hot would warm you up after the cold-"

"If you want to warm me up, give me some wine", Belspur pushed the teacup away from him in disgust. Tumnus put the teakettle back on the stove and pulled up his chair to sit across from his new friend.

"I didn't mean to be such a poor host, Bel" He picked up the rejected tea and timidly sipped at it. "I just wasn't sure what you wanted"

Belspur rested his elbows on the table, propping his chin in his hands. The Satyr glanced around his host's home with incurious eyes. Tumnus could hear his hoof tapping on the dry stone floor.

"Oh!" Tumnus lightly slapped his forehead and stood up, "The wine! Of course…"

He heard Belspur muttering just loud enough to be heard as he searched around his home.

"Hard to get good wine these days…"

"Yes, well," Tumnus replied as he clicked open a heavy wooden chest in the corner of his cave. Inside, among more mundane items were his pipes, his deceased father's journal, and a bag of gold coins. "It's hard to grow grapes these days"

"You ever had the stuff they sell down at Cair Paravel?"

"I'm afraid I haven't"

"Don't be. It's all vinegar. Right nasty stuff"

Tumnus lifted a layer of burlap, revealing a few bottles with a deep purple liquid inside. Glancing behind him, he saw the Satyr's ears perk up at the sound of clinking glass.

"I do hope this is something more to your liking", Tumnus sighed, pulling out a single bottle and locking up his chest. "Because I don't have very much to offer you"

Belspur sat straight up, hands folded in lap, looking at Tumnus with almost gentlemanly patience as he placed the heavy glass bottle in the center of the table. Belspur broke into another crooked grin and beamed at Tumnus.

"I'd know that purple anywhere!" The Satyr slapped his thigh and laughed. "Straight from the river, the water blessed by Bacchus! To think you'd share such a treasure with me…"

"My father, bless his soul, bottled it", Tumnus interrupted his guest with a somber voice, "So you'll understand this means a lot to me.

"My father had quite a sense about these things, you see. I was only a little faun at the time, and I couldn't understand why he'd want to store wine when Bacchus made whole rivers and streams overflow with it…" He trailed off, pursing his lips, and seemed to have nothing else to say.

The Faun's expression became distant as he retrieved a corkscrew, popped the cork out without ceremony, and handed the open bottle to Belspur.

"I do hope this warms you up, Bel", Tumnus said softly as his guest took the offering from him. The Satyr's nostrils flared as lifted the bottle and sniffed at the wine. In what seemed to Tumnus a sudden gesture of hesitation and shyness, Belspur reached across the table and handed the bottle back to him.

"Why don't you just take the first sip, huh? After all, I'm not _selfish_"


	3. Chapter 3

They drank deeply of the divinity created wine, and drank some more. Soon they were sitting on the hard floor rather than the nice wooden chairs, but neither of them seemed to mind or care. They were shoulder to shoulder, leaning against each other and laughing as familiarly as if they were brothers.

Tumnus felt a great deal more relaxed as the wine unwound his nerves. Belspur, for his part, seemed gentler and friendlier under the influence of alcohol.

They began to talk of all the things goat-legged people are concerned with; dances, music, festivals, moonlight revels, the beauty of nymphs and dryads and the daughters of river gods.

"We've got a hard, hard lot you know" Belspur said, looking as if he was trying not to laugh. The tip of nose was cherry red.

"Whatever do you mean?" Tumnus asked, wrapping his arm around his friend and squeezing his shoulder.

"Fauns and Satyrs that is", Belspur continued after taking another sip of wine. His eyes got big and slightly wet. "We never know our mothers"

"My mother was a nymph," Tumnus commented, casually and without pride, "At least, that's what my father told me"

"Yes, yes, yes, but we never really get acquainted, now do we? They just show up with us in tow and drop us off on our father's doorstep and slip right back into their trees and forget all about us"

Tumnus tilted his head back and took a deep drink before replying.

"I don't suppose they can help it, Bel. It's just their nature. You mustn't hold it against them."

Belspur seemed to think about Tumnus words. In any case he said nothing for a long time and had a serious expression on his face. Tumnus thought his face was not designed for thinking much-his eyebrows were too hairy and looked like one gigantic brow when he scrunched them together.

Tumnus leaned his face against the Satyr's shoulder. He could feel his skin burning against his cheek. It was as if Belspur was some sort of furnace-almost too hot to the touch. When Tumnus looked up he saw his friend's face was flushing crimson.

"Are you alright, Bel?" Tumnus whispered. "You look like you've caught a fever"

Belspur blinked, and then stood up shaking his head. He stamped his hoof on the floor and looked down at Tumnus.

"I'm just warm, that's all", Belspur said, stroking his little beard thoughtfully. "What I could really use now it a good dance"

With that, he began tapping his hard cloven feet on the floor with a clumsy rhythm. Tumnus responded by getting his pipes out his chest and striking up a simple tune. His fingers felt heavy and his lips fat as he tried to tease music from his instrument.

It was all rather silly looking, Tumnus thought, drunken dancing to drunken music. But his hoofs began tapping to his own jerky rhythm, and soon after that he was standing up and dancing beside Belspur. Unfortunately it is rather difficult to do two things at once, especially when one has had too much wine. The Faun tripped over his partner's leg, and rather than dropping his pipes to catch himself, he held them to his chest and tumbled toward the floor.

Belspur's arm shot out and grabbed the Tumnus by his waist. For a moment they dangled their, the small Faun keep upright by the larger Satyr's arm. Tumnus let out a yelp of surprise as he felt himself falling backwards. What was really happening was Belspur was falling down and bringing Tumnus with him, but it took him a moment to figure this out.

By the time he did he was lying on top of Belspur, back facing him. He felt the Satyr's warm chest against his shoulder blades and his arm still against his stomach. It was not an unpleasant sensation, and Tumnus's face reddened from something other than wine.

"I do think", Belspur said in a deep, sleepy voice, "We've had quite enough wine"


End file.
